This is the Wonder That's Keeping the Stars Apart
by PodBayDoors
Summary: Tag to Threads. I know it's been done to death but I had fun writing it. Sam & Jack. Angst, a little fluff. Prequel to Space and Equations for Falling Bodies.
1. Countless Silken Ties

Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime / Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. The titles of the story and chapters 3 and 6 are by ee cummings; chapters 1 and 5 by Robert Frost; and chapter 2 by Nancy Sullivan. Obviously I don't own those lines, either. I just wish I did. There's also a reference to Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury- I _really_ wish I owned that one!

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I'm sure a thousand people have written a tag to _Threads_, but one more can't hurt. I wrote this for fun and hope you like it. Sam & Jack, a lot of angst, a little fluff. This one might earn its rating. It could be a prequel to my story, _Space._

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**Countless Silken Ties**

Sam could still hear the echo of the wormhole vortex ringing in her ears as the historic first joint United States Air Force and Tok'ra funeral drew to a close. As strange a ceremony as it was, it still seemed fitting since during the past six years her father had felt more comfortable "out there." Now he'd be "there" permanently, and Sam was sure that he'd take pleasure in that, if somehow he knew. She forced herself to turn away from the ramp and face some of Jacob's former colleagues, with Jack O'Neill and Daniel Jackson on either side of her.

"Are you holding up all right, Sam?" General Hammond asked kindly, taking her hand between his.

Sam smiled weakly. "For now, sir. I have my moments."

"We owe our lives to his helping us out there on Dakara." Hammond added. Sam nodded. Few other of Jacob's Air Force colleagues attended the funeral, not because of his sometimes gruff demeanor, but because so few had had the clearance to get them down to Level 28. More Tok'ra were present, however, their voices quiet and sometimes startlingly deep.

O'Neill shifted uncomfortably. He'd been to far too many funerals and wanted to leave this one as soon as possible. "Daniel," he leaned over behind Sam, "You okay staying? I'm going upstairs." Daniel, incongruous in his civilian clothing, nodded and stayed behind with Sam. He held the folded flag for her, and tried to stay composed as Jack made his retreat, which really wasn't fair considering Daniel had been dead himself only two days earlier. Teal'c, meanwhile, feeling the need to say even less than usual on this occasion, had already excused himself to mourn alone in his quarters immediately after Jacob's body had disappeared.

The only other civilian in the gate room glanced up to watch General O'Neill enter the briefing room. Mark Carter excused himself and, with his airman escort, took the elevator up two floors and tapped on the open door to O'Neill's office.

"Hi, Mark, come on in."

"Thanks, General. It was good of you to allow me in to the facility for my father's funeral."

"Well, being a military kid, I figured you know about keeping secrets."_But actually, there was no way in hell I was going to say "no" to your sister. "_And call me 'Jack'." O'Neill began to unbutton his jacket. Formality made him nervous, and so, for some reason, did Mark.

"All right." Mark placed his hands in his pockets. He didn't like the military, but he did like, or at least trust, Jack- because Jacob had. " I was wondering if you could do a small favor for me, regarding Sam." Jack looked up and Mark continued. "You know she's got a few days off, but I have to leave tomorrow. I'd like you to check in on her, if you don't mind."

"I'd planned on it, anyway." Jack put his coat on the rack and loosened his tie.

Mark thought for a moment. "That's good of you Jack. I thought you two were fairly close."

"People tend to get to know each other pretty well when they're about to be killed on multiple occasions." Jack suspected Mark was up to something, but he didn't know exactly what that might be- and since Mark was being a little pushy, Jack thought he'd push back.

"What about Pete?" he asked, sitting down at his desk. Sam had told him that Mark had introduced her to Pete. "Pathetic, I know," she'd said. _No shit, Sam. He is pathetic. For you.  
_

"Well, to be honest, Jack, I'm not sure he's going to be around. That's one of the reasons I'd really like someone to check up on her. Jacob's death isn't the only problem she has. She's got some turbulence ahead." After all these years, and no matter how hard he tried, Mark was still influenced by his father. Jack wondered if he even knew.

The two men studied each other, and then Sam appeared in the doorway. Tired, but beautiful anyway in her uniform blues and heels. "Excuse me, General."

"It's all right, Carter." Jack stood up. Mark noticed.

"Mark, I've just about had it. I'm ready to go." Sam leaned on the doorjamb. He nodded sympathetically.

"Thank you, Jack." Mark said, shaking O'Neill's hand. As Mark turned to Sam, a slight wince crossed her face. "Oh, Mark, I forgot the flag. Would you go down and get it from Daniel? I'll meet you in front of the elevators on this level."

"All right. I won't be long." He glanced at Jack, and walked through the door.

Sam walked a few steps into the General's office. "Thanks for putting this funeral together, sir. I'm sure you had to pull a few strings." Sam thought she had herself under control, but her eyes started to well up with tears. Again. She bit her lip.

Jack walked around his desk and over to her. "He deserved it, Carter. He saved our collective butts a number of times." They looked at each other briefly, and since they were in mutual agreement that Jack was basically incompetent at expressing emotions other than the easy ones like anger, impatience and distrust, he simply put his arms around her, mentally willing some strength back into her depleted body. But there was always more than just comfort in their embraces, and this time was no different. In fact, this one was worse, or better, depending on one's point of view.

Mark looked up from the gate room and saw them. He sighed, and for a moment resented that last phone call he'd had with Jacob and the one last favor he'd agreed to do for his father. He put the carefully folded flag in the crook of his arm and turned to leave. Turbulence. Right.

The following morning, Mark stepped into the passenger's side of Sam's car, and put the sun flap down to shield his eyes from the early-morning glare. "I'm sorry I have to leave so soon, Sam."

"It's all right Mark, just promise you'll bring the whole family back with you next time, " Sam smiled, sadly.

"I will." He looked out the window as they pulled away from the curb. There was a momentary silence. "Sam, why didn't you invite Pete to the funeral?"

"He doesn't have clearance," she said, simply. It was the universal excuse. Unfortunately, being a military kid, Mark didn't buy it.

"He said he went to see Jacob."

"Mark, you know that it's all on a 'need to know basis.'" Sam shook her head ruefully. "I can't believe I said that- anyway, he's never seen the most important parts of the facility. The military gives special consideration for family, but fiancées aren't in that category."

"I would be willing to bet that you didn't even ask."

Sam was silent. She kept her eyes on the road heading out to the airport.

"You have to be straight with him, Sam."

"I know," the words slipped out before Sam could stop them.

"So you _are_ going to call it off, aren't you?" Mark looked directly at her. He was happy that she was trapped in the car, because this was just the kind of situation in which she'd otherwise find an excuse to run off.

"Mark, I don't really feel like talking about this right now." Sam gave him a fleeting look, wondering how he could be so perceptive. She'd talked to him about having pre-wedding jitters, but not much more than that.

"You have to talk to someone about it sometime."

_I tried that once but it didn't go so well._

Sam sighed. She wished the airport were closer to town. "I hate to use a cliché, but we're just not meant for each other."

"And that's it?" Mark said dubiously.

"Mark, I don't understand what you're getting at." Sam shook her head.

"He's my friend Sam. Tell him the truth," he said pointedly. Then, looking up, "Here's my terminal, United, right there."

Sam parked the car and got out to see Mark off. After he retrieved his bag from the trunk, she gave him a kiss and hug. "Thank you for coming, Mark."

"Thank _you_ for getting us back together all those years ago, Sam." Mark smiled and touched her shoulder, and he walked off a few steps, stopped, and turned around. "Tell Pete you're in love with someone else." He disappeared into the revolving door, and left Sam standing there watching the door turn for long time.

Jack sat at his desk, rolling his pen absentmindedly. He didn't know what to make of his conversation with Mark, but he did know that he was right about at least some of what his blonde-headed Lt. Colonel was trying to tell him when she appeared at his house four days ago. She wasn't going to marry Pete.

His blonde-headed Lt. Colonel. It occurred to him that he'd _never_ call Siler his blonde-headed chief engineer.

A tap at the door let him know that Daniel and Teal'c were there. "Jack, we'd like to see if Sam's all right, you know, see if she needs anything." Daniel said. "When would be a good time? Did she say what she'd be doing?"

"Colonel Carter indicated her brother would not be able to stay long. It is unwise to leave her alone during this period of mourning." Teal'c added, concern glazing his usually impassive face.

O'Neill leaned back in his chair. "Mark will be around for a couple of days. Why don't we visit her after he leaves?" He didn't even mean to lie and was startled by how easily it rolled off of his tongue.

"Yes…. survivors do tend to get too many visitors right away." Daniel mused, slipping into his anthropologist's perspective. "We should probably try to remember that the point is to make her feel better, not to make us feel better." He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully but that made his glasses slip and he had to push them up again.

"O'Neill, will you notify us of the earliest possible time at which it would be appropriate to see Colonel Carter?" Teal'c queried. Jack nodded.

"Okay, Jack." Daniel agreed, his eyes troubled. He and Teal'c left, and as soon as they did, Jack got up and grabbed his jacket.

Sam sat on her bed, still in her pajamas, wishing that that Janet were still alive- for so many reasons. The new doc was nice, but she wasn't Janet, didn't have her history with SG-1. Sam still had an uneasy feeling that perhaps Janet could have saved Jacob, as she certainly was the earth's authority on symbiote/human interactions. Then she shook her head ruefully- there was no use in wondering about that now. Still, it would have been wonderful just to be able to talk to Janet about Jacob- God knows she'd understand the way few others could. She'd also have anticipated that Sam wouldn't sleep a wink, and sent her home with some sleeping pills, because Sam certainly wasn't going to _ask_ for any, and consequently had slept very little. Then the doorbell rang. Glancing in the mirror she hoped whoever was there was someone she knew well because she really looked like hell.

"General." He, of course, looked terrific. Sam ran her fingers through her hair.

"Hi Carter. Just checking up on you."

"Please come in, I- I wasn't expecting anyone." Sam said, once the initial shock had worn off. "May I take your jacket?"

Jack walked in the house, and into the living room. "No, I'll just throw it on the nearest piece of furniture." He studied Sam. "I don't mean to be rude, but you don't look so good."

"I didn't get much sleep last night. None, actually."

"You eat anything today?"

"No, sir."

"Let me make you a sandwich, okay? And," Jack said, opening the refrigerator, "since we're not using _my_ food, you won't get food poisoning."

Sam sighed, and smiled a little. "All right." She turned to go back down the hall. "At least let me get out of these pajamas." She shut the door to her room.

O'Neill coughed. _Whatever you say, Sam._

Sam came back a few minutes later, sat at the kitchen counter and looked at her lunch. "That's pretty impressive. I can't eat all of that, sir."

O'Neill was once again rummaging through the fridge. "Well, you've got half of Safeway in here." He suddenly stood up and looked at Sam suspiciously over the top of the door. "Wait a minute…. Mark bought all this, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"He's a good man."

"Yes, he is. He asked you to come here, didn't he, General?"

O'Neill shut the refrigerator door with his elbow and put two cans of coke on the counter. He looked at Sam for a moment. "I told him I would have come anyway." _Over hot coals, if I had to._

Sam put her sandwich down, and looked up at him. "Thank you, sir."

"Carter," Jack sighed, "you don't have to thank me. Do you remember what I told you in the infirmary?"

"I remember." Sam said, looking straight into his intense brown eyes. _But I don't know what you meant_. Neither one of them moved for a moment.

"All right, then. Now please eat some more of that or you'll hurt my feelings." Jack popped the lid on a coke and handed it to her. Then he took his own and sat beside her.

Sam opened her eyes to find herself lying on the couch, with a blanket over her and Jack's feet (no shoes, at least) on the table in front of her. She sat up slowly.

"Have a nice nap?"

"How long was I out? I feel a lot better."

" Not very long. You know, there's something just_ wrong_ about fake fires and lights that come on by themselves. Also, you really need to get some magazines. Motorcycles and physics. Can't you get something in between, like _National Geographic_?"

"I don't even read the ones I do get, Jack."

He looked at her. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Sam's heat skipped a beat, She knew he could be blunt but…

"You only say my name when one of us is about to die."

Sam smiled with relief. "No, I think we're safe."

"You _think_?"

"That's about as good as it gets."

"Ah. Break-ins, kidnappings, a stargate _in your basement…"_

"A crazy man or two in your house."

"Three, to be precise, Carter. Some more than once."

"I think we're even, then, sir."

The salutation hung in the air between them and Jack wished he hadn't said anything about it.

"It's good to see you smile, Carter. I haven't seen that since before Jacob died." He took his feet off of the coffee table. "You know, there are a few things he kept at the base. Would you like the rest- I mean what's not classified?"

"Yes, I would." She looked at the folded flag in its triangular case on the mantle, realizing that she wasn't past the point of crying at the thought of her father, after all.

Jack wished he didn't have to, but he went on. "Do you want me to have them sent over, or do you want to come to the base?"

"Please have them sent. It's hard enough as it is. Did you know this is- was- his house? I'm to the point where I think I ought to move."

"Don't do that, Carter. Give it time." Jack reached over and touched her arm, then slowly withdrew his hand. For a moment, Sam thought seriously about grabbing it back, wrapping his arm around her and crying into his shirt for a couple of hours, but then the soldier in her took over and she resisted.

So she just looked at him gratefully. Neither of them were strangers to loss. "We did get a chance to say our goodbyes. I was always afraid one of us would just vanish, and we'd never get that chance."

"I still worry about that."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Oh, well, you know- the three of you gallivanting all over the galaxy without me, now. I'm shocked that you can make it home."

Sam faked a frown. "Still don't trust my command?"

"I _never_ said that. It'd just be nice to know I'm needed."

"Don't pout, sir. It's behavior unbecoming a General." Sam teased.

Jack was glad to see she was in a better mood. Maybe now was a good time to ask. "Carter, when you were at my house the other day…"

Sam cut him off. "I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have come over- unannounced." As days went, that was her number one all-time worst day, ever- and considering her line of work, that was really saying something.

Jack wasn't going to be so easily deterred. "You had something you wanted to tell me."

"I did, sir." Sam didn't look at him.

"The part about Pete?" He glanced over at her. She nodded.

"I was… am… will. Yes. I mean- I'm not getting married." Sam stammered.

Jack took a deep breath. "Oh."

"Pete's not the guy for me. He never was. I'm not what he needs, either." Sam would like to have pulled the blanket up over her head, but realized it would not work to her advantage. So she switched from defense to offense. "There's a big part of my life he'll never know. At least you and Kerry can talk about work."

Jack studied her for a moment. "Carter, you can talk a blue streak about particle physics, but when it comes to talking about yourself, you just clam up. This isn't about me."

"You're mixing your metaphors; and it is about you." She stopped. Jack fixed his eyes on hers.

"You said something like that at my house right before Kerry came out."

"Did I?"

"I thought so." Jack was trying, really trying and she wouldn't give him one damn inch. He cursed his own stupidity- it would have been so simple to make an excuse about helping his 2IC in her hour of need- in fact it would have been _expected_. But he was afraid- afraid to go with her- afraid to hold her and comfort her, afraid to hear what she had to say because it wouldn't have taken anything at all for his painstakingly constructed defenses to crumble into dust once he knew Pete was out of the picture.

And of course it took Kerry about ten seconds to correctly interpret his hesitation and peg him for the fool he was.

Neither of them said anything. Finally Jack stood up. "Do you want another coke?"

Not unless there's rum in it. A double, Sam thought. "No thanks."

"Mark's got some decent beer in there. Not to imply you have poor taste in beer."

"Although I do." Sam smiled.

"Trying to be polite here." Jack got out two beers and sat back down. He took off the caps and started to flip one, then stopped. "Sorry." He looked sheepishly at Sam and put it on the table.

Sam took a drink. Her resolve had disappeared. She fervently wished that she'd caught Jack alone that day, when she'd worked up the courage. Alone with him now, it was so much harder. She took another drink, hoping for its disinhibiting effects to kick in right away.

Jack rolled the bottle cap around on the table. "You were going to finish telling me what you started to tell me over at my house the other night." He remembered that her cheeks had been flushed- and that she had been even more beautiful than usual standing there in his yard.

"I just did, sir." Sam said, evasively.

"Carter," he sighed, "Stop calling me sir, just for a while, all right?" _Just finish whatever the hell it was that you were going to say, so I can get on with my life._

Sam drank the last of her beer. She'd definitely drunk it too quickly as something was making her feel warm and a little dizzy. "I had to talk to you, Jack."

"About what?" Jack thought she looked just like she had in his yard.

Sam put the empty bottle on the table. "I wanted to tell you the real reason why I couldn't marry Pete."

"Which is?" Jack pressed her. He tried to sound nonchalant, but what he really wanted to do was to take her by the shoulders and shake it out of her.

Then the doorbell rang. And rang again.

"Are you going to get that?" Jack finally said. He was just so totally screwed when it came to Sam. It _had_ to be fate.

"It doesn't sound like I have a choice." Sam shook her head and went to the door, to find Pete standing there in the late afternoon sunshine.

"Do you have a visitor? Sam, I can come back later. It's just the phones haven't been working all day. I've been worried." Pete seemed relieved, but concerned.

Sam let him in. "No, it's okay. I was trying to sleep and then I just forgot to put it back on the hook. I'm sure my cell is dead. General O'Neill came by, that's all."

Pete walked into the living room, his smile fading. "General O'Neill."

"Hello, Pete." Jack smiled. He could afford to. They didn't shake hands and Sam took that as an ominous sign.

"Pete, can I get you something to drink? We were just talking about my Dad." Sam tried desperately to think about how to get one or the other of them out of her house.

"Sure, Sam, and I'd love to hear some war stories about Jacob." Pete said, sitting down. He looked expectantly at Jack.

Jack put his hands in his pockets. "Sorry, Pete, there's not much we can tell you. It's classified." Sam, in the kitchen, heard Jack and cringed. _Don't take it out on Pete. It's my fault._

She came back into the living room with a coke and a glass. "Here you are, Pete. General O'Neill was just leaving," Pete didn't seem to hear her.

"That's always the way it is with you two, isn't it?" he said. "Everything's always classified." Jack put his coat on as Pete continued. "Hell, you could be banging each other and I'd never know, because it's _classified_."

"Pete!"

Jack didn't say anything. He walked toward the door and as he did he passed by Pete. Leaning down, he quietly said, "If you _ever_ talk to her like that again, I will personally make your life miserable in ways you can't even imagine." Then Jack walked down the hall and out the door, letting it slam behind him.

"What's the matter with you?" Sam said angrily

"What's the matter with _you_, Sam? All I know is that since the day your dad went into the hospital I haven't been able to get near you. Even Mark told me to keep my distance for a couple of days. Then I come here and find you with O'Neill, who sees you every day, all day, and sometimes all night, I guess. What's he doing here, too?" Pete was visibly upset, his usually upbeat demeanor shattered. "And you know what else Sam?"

"What, Pete?" Sam asked quietly.

"Mark and I ran into some old friends of yours. When they found out we were engaged, they assumed my name was Jack."

Sam sighed and lifted her coat off the hook by the door. "Let's go take another look at that beautiful house, Pete."


	2. Telling it Clean

**Telling it Clean**

"I thought you'd be down here." Jack said, walking across the lawn of the park where Sam sat contemplating the most recent disasters in her life.

"General." She stood up, out of surprise and habit.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Carter, sit down. We're in a park. Can't you just relax for a while?"

Sam sat back down. He sat down beside her, his sunglasses on.

"How did you figure out that I was here?"

"Your various modes of transportation were at your house." Without waiting for her to ask, he added, "Your helmet was on the table."

"Oh," she nodded.

"Special Forces training, you know." He raised his eyebrows. She smiled.

"I could have been with someone else."

"I figured you'd straightened things out with Pete last night." He looked at her, glad that he hadn't taken off his glasses.

It was an unfair advantage. Sam looked away. "Yes, I did."

"I'm sorry." Jack said.

"You are." Sam stated.

Jack sighed. That hadn't come out the way he wanted it to, but things seldom did when it came to Sam. Which was why he seldom said anything. "I just want you to be happy."

"I'm beginning to think that's not really possible." She got up to leave. This was really a pointless exercise. She'd been through enough this week.

"Carter, sit down." Jack said. "Sam."

She turned around. "Who _are_ you, Jack?"

"Who do you want me to be?" Jack asked her. He took off his sunglasses.

"It's not that easy." She didn't sit down.

"Why not?"

"It's never easy talking with you. I never really know what you think." She took a deep breath. "About me."

He sat back on the bench and looked at her. Then she sighed. She had to admit that she was half of the equation, the equation that had thus far had eluded a solution. So Sam sat back down beside him. He put his arm around her, waiting for her to say something because he couldn't. She shut her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again. "It took me a year to work up the courage to come and talk to you."

"So why don't you finish what you came to say?" He rubbed the back of her neck gently in an attempt to calm her down, but it had the opposite effect.

"What's the point, Jack?" Sam turned to look at him.

"The point is, then I'll know. And that would be a first, Sam."

Sam couldn't look at him. "I had to tell you why I couldn't marry Pete."

"And that is…?"

"I love someone else…" Sam said, resignedly.

Jack didn't breathe.

Sam paused. A safe bet, she thought. Always.

"You."

Jack took his arm from around her, put both of his hands in his jacket pockets and looked across the park. Sam knew better than to ask what he was thinking. After a moment, she got up and touched his shoulder. "It's all right Jack. You don't have to tell me anything." The last sentence struck her as utterly ironic and immensely hilarious, and that's when she knew she was on the verge of completely losing it. So she walked back to her house, and he watched her go until he couldn't see her at all.

Sam arrived her house completely exhausted but her mind was racing, and she thought the rest of her might as well follow. She picked up her helmet, found her leather bike jacket and went for a ride. It usually helped clear her mind to think about nothing but the wind and the pavement and avoiding the Colorado State Patrol. After tooling around the Garden of the Gods which was beautiful in the setting sun, and strikingly similar to Vorash, Sam found herself in front of Jack's house.

Jack's garage door was wide open, even as darkness fell. He never learns, she thought, remembering Joe Spencer. She smiled a little, trying to recall what it was that Joe had said- the Pete Shanahan thing- before Jack had stopped him. What _did_ Jack think? It was always just so damned hard to tell. Looking up at the thunderheads forming in the evening sky, she thought it would probably be best to push the bike into the garage. Then she went around to the front door and rang the bell.

"Sam." Jack didn't look surprised.

"I went for a ride and ended up here," she said, nervously. Often and for no apparent reason, it struck her how handsome he was. This was one of those times. "I'm- I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Come on in." Jack closed the door behind them. "Kerry's not here."

Sam put her helmet and gloves on the end table. Jack watched her run her fingers through her hair and it disturbed him how much he'd like to do that for her. "Actually, I haven't seen her since before Jacob died."

Sam stared at him, astonished.

"Don't you want to know why?" Jack asked her.

"It's probably none of my business, Jack." Sam said, cautiously. He seemed on edge, angry and perhaps a little drunk.

"It probably is." He went up into the kitchen. "Want something to drink? I only have real beer, not that weak Canadian crap you like."

"Sure." She remained standing. "And Jack?"

"Sam?"

"Would you please shut the garage door?" Her bike was important to her, a vintage Indian, and he knew it.

Jack rolled his eyes and walked down the hall to hit the button. "Have a seat, Sam."

"Let me warm up a little bit, first, since you have a real fire." She smiled, but her words still sounded sarcastic, and she began to wish she'd never come.

Jack handed Sam a bottle then sat down with his. "She said I had 'issues'."

Sam turned around. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"

He didn't answer her.

It was all she could do to keep from slamming the bottle on the table and walking out. Instead, she took a drink and turned back to look into the flames. "Tell me, was that a test- or just to make me pay?"

Jack felt like an ass. "I didn't think you cared. By the time I figured it out, you'd walked off." He took a drink, in complete awe at his apparently unlimited capacity to screw things up with Sam. "Is Pete still stalking you?"

Sam shook her head. "I think he knew it was coming."

"I think everybody knew it was coming." Jack looked for her reaction. Sam turned away from the fire.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means?" Jack said, sitting back on the couch. The way she looked in the firelight made his chest ache. God, she was so beautiful. And completely capable of drawing blood in more ways than one, whether she knew it or not.

"Don't play Oma Desala with me, please." Sam couldn't figure out what was wrong with him.

Jack smiled bitterly. "Well, it could mean you're a heartbreaker, Sam. Let's face it, you've had two broken engagements, and a galaxy littered with men, one of whom even_ descended_ to be with you, for cryin' out loud. You're dangerous." She'd already broken his heart and he wasn't ready to risk it again because now that she had her head out of her- the sand- he knew he'd never be able to stack up against the Faxons and Barretts and Colsons of the world- never mind all the men who were on _other_ worlds. Eventually, she'd figure it out and move on. And there were things about him she was better off not knowing, anyway.

"It could have something to do with the fact that Kerry knew you had issues."

Jack snapped out of it.

"She figured it out as soon as I showed up here, didn't she? Just like Pete figured it out when you were at my house. They already knew." Sam picked up her beer, her hands shaking

His eyes narrowed. "Could be. Why'd you do it in the first place, Sam?"

Sam didn't know what to say. _Because I hit my head on the Prometheus and discussed my feelings with your hallucination?_ Yeah, he'd believe that. She could hardly believe that.

"Well why not, Jack? You were always telling me to get a life, so I did. When you were promoted, I thought things might change, but they never did." She put her beer back down on the table.

"You were seeing Pete!" Jack pointed out.

"So what? Did you ever _once_ talk to me about it? How about what I said on the cargo ship going out to get the ZPM?"

"What?" He remembered her words, the anguished look in her eyes, and the Ancient knowledge clogging his mind that kept him from saying more than he'd said, although he wasn't sure he'd be able to do better under normal circumstances- whatever _they_ were.

"Selective memory loss." Sam said, sarcastically. "All the other ones came back."

"You were going to marry the guy. I didn't make you do that."

"You didn't make me, you _let_ me." Sam's eyes glinted. "That night in my lab. You could have stopped everything right there. I was waiting for you to, but you didn't."

Jack didn't say anything for a moment, and then, in a quiet and controlled voice: "It felt like I'd taken a staff blast to the chest."

"So did I." Sam said, realizing he'd finally expressed some feelings, even if it took a military analogy to do it. She finished the beer and set it on the mantle.

He watched her.

She waited. "Tell you what, Jack, when you're ready to tell me what you want from me, let me know." She grabbed her helmet, gloves and jacket and walked down the hall.

He heard the garage door go up, and the motorcycle start. Then the rain began to fall. He forgot to put the door down.

Jack woke up on the couch the next morning and noticed the gentle patter of the rain had stopped, only to be replaced by the pounding of a headache. He searched through the bathroom, found some aspirin and took a few, then splashed some water on his face and looked in the mirror. _What the hell did you do last night?_ He was supposed to be helping her, and instead he'd decided to pick a fight. Jack made coffee, and dialed the phone.

"Daniel, I think it'd be a good day for you and Teal'c to drop by Carter's house and make sure she's all right. I'll be at the SGC." Jack said. "Yeah. Thanks."

Jack sat at his desk in the SGC. He wasn't getting anything done, but at least he was around for the rare thing only a General could do, like authorize a paint job for the mess hall. As he picked up another exciting piece of paper, Teal'c appeared in his doorway. He brightened. "Teal'c."

"I wish to speak with you, O'Neill, regarding Colonel Carter. She is most unhappy." Teal'c said solemnly.

"I'd guess so, Teal'c. Jacob just died."

"That is not all, O'Neill. I do not understand why your government insists that lovers may not fight side by side. The Jaffa and even the Tok'ra have no such rules."

"They should. You and Ishta fight like cats and dogs." Jack said, raising an eyebrow.

"We would regardless. But, that is not the issue here. These requirements have caused you and Colonel Carter much grief over the years. I have seen it."

"What are you talking about, Teal'c?" Jack sat back in his chair.

Teal'c saw right through him. "You must speak with Colonel Carter."

"You her errand boy now?" Jack said caustically. He was glad that Teal'c had been over to see her today and not him. He felt like jagged edges held together by frayed nerves.

"She does not know that I am here, or what I believe to be true."

Jack said nothing. Teal'c bowed slightly, and left.

After all the teams had come in for the day and had their debriefings, Jack left the SGC. In the parking lot, he noticed Sam's car. He hadn't known she was even there. He paused for a minute, and headed back in and hit the elevator button. The elevator doors opened, and there was Sam.

"General," she said evenly.

"Carter."

"There goes your elevator." Sam said, turning to look at the elevator doors as they closed.

"I was just leaving." Jack said.

She shook her head a little. _Whatever, Jack._

"Walk you to your car?" Jack swept his hand toward the door.

"All right."

They walked through the entrance area and when they were far enough away from the sentries Jack said, "Sorry about last night."

"What part?" Sam clearly was not in a cheerful mood.

"I'd like to forget about it."

They arrived at Sam's car, and she moved to put her key in the lock, but Jack stopped her. "Why don't you come with me? Let's go for a drive," he said, tilting his head toward his truck.

"Where?" Sam stood up and put her keys in her pocket.

"I'll show you."

They drove a few miles out of town and up into the mountains. Jack obviously had been up here before, because the lack of signs, or even much of a road, didn't bother him. When they got to the top, he asked her, "Stars or lights?"

"Whatever you want, Jack."

He turned the truck so the bed faced the city. "Come on." Jack got out. He opened the tailgate and jumped up, then went to a large box in the back of the truck bed.

"Here." He threw the edge of an old blanket at her and they covered the tailgate with it. "I have some beer in here, but it's not exactly cold."

"I'll pass." Sam said. "You're awfully well-prepared," she added, hopping up to sit on the tailgate.

"One never knows when the urge to go fishing will strike." He sat down, too. "No telescope tonight, though."

"This is your favorite spot?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, a great view in two directions." Now three, he thought.

Sam leaned back on her elbows. "I'm kind of tired of stars. It's nice to see something that looks like home." She instantly regretted saying it, not knowing if she was talking to her CO or a friend.

"It is." Jack looked over at Sam. "What were you up to at the SGC today?"

"I felt better working on a few projects. It takes my mind off of things." Sam said, still looking out.

"I didn't know you were there."

Sam didn't reply.

"You feel better, then?"

"I feel better about Jacob." Sam said, sitting up.

Jack put his arm around her. Eventually, Sam laid her head on his shoulder. After a long while, she said, "I guess we'd better get back now."

"Wait." Jack put his other hand to her cheek and gently turned her head. Then he kissed her, no viruses, time loops or alternative realities involved.

And therefore no excuses, if one should ever be needed.

He took Sam completely by surprise, and by the time she realized that the object of her most intense desires was kissing her, he stopped, leaving her wide-eyed and breathless.

"Does that tell you what you want to know?" Jack asked. He couldn't see her face very well in the dim light, but her eyes were glistening.

_You just staked your career on a kiss. _Sam nodded.

"All right," Jack relented, "I'll take you back."

They didn't say very much on the ride back into the city. Jack pulled into the parking lot next to her car. "Sam, come up to Minnesota with me. I'm going for a week. I actually thought I'd try to talk Daniel and Teal'c into going up, too."

"Teal'c won't stay for a week," Sam pointed out.

"Hey," Jack poked his finger at her, "just because the mosquitoes are the size of a UAV doesn't mean it's not fun. But I thought only you would stay the whole week."

"Oh, I don't know, Jack." Uncertainty crossed her face.

"You need a break, Sam. We all do. That replicator crap, the galactic near-miss, Jacob dying and Daniel dying again…" Jack stopped.

"No normal person would ever talk like we do." Sam smiled.

"Right. We're all going to the cabin and talk weird together." Jack was happy to see that perhaps he'd fixed some of the damage he'd done last night. "I'm gonna buy the tickets and arrange everybody's leave. You'll have no choice."

Sam turned to get out, but Jack held her arm. "Just one more thing," he said, leaning across the seat. He held her face in his hands and kissed her again, all the while thinking that he shouldn't be kissing Lt. Colonel Carter in his truck in the middle of base parking and that he really needed to let her get into her car, and that she must think he was out of his mind.

Which she actually didn't. What she actually thought was that it was about damn time. Sam briefly considered inviting him home, but she didn't want him to think she was the kind of woman who'd sleep with a man after just a couple of kisses.

She would, though. If that man was Jack O'Neill.

* * *

"You've got packing to do." Jack said, carrying the ZPM out of the room. Sam bit her lip, and watched him leave. All of these years she'd been reluctant to go, and she was still as nervous as ever. 

"Do you always fly up here?" Sam asked as they drove down the dirt road to the cabin.

"It's a long trip." Jack said. "I don't mind driving it, but not with you."

Sam shot him a look.

"I mean, uh, it's boring." Jack stammered, "Just trying to save you the trouble."

They turned into the drive and parked in front of the cabin. Jack got out and lifted out his bag. As Sam went to grab hers, he warned her off with a quick, "Huh uh" and then carried them both inside. Sam wandered over to the pond where she could see a couple of ducks on the far side.

Jack came out of the cabin. "Beautiful pond isn't it? No fish. If I want to catch something, I have to walk down that path there-," he pointed to the woods- "to a great big honkin' lake where-"

"The fish are _this big._" Carter held her hands a few feet apart.

"Who knew you were such a smartass?" Jack said, putting his arms around her waist.

"I had to show respect to my CO."

"But not to plain old Jack, eh?"

"It's not so bad." Sam smiled sweetly. "He gets the soldier, you get the girl."

"Fair enough."

Then they heard a car door shut, and then Teal'c and Daniel's voices.

"Good." Jack said. "They can haul in the groceries."

Over the next few days, the group had the best time that any of them could remember that didn't involve explosives. Sam and Daniel learned which end of the fishing pole did what. To his great relief, Teal'c had no trouble with the mosquitoes. After the initial shock of finding fish in his pond, Jack spent a lot of time alternately laughing at and helping everyone else. The sat phone only rang a couple of times with minor problems Colonel Reynolds didn't know how to deal with. And they all drank a lot of beer.

"We're ready to take off, Jack." Daniel said. "Thanks for the terrific weekend. I've spent so much time looking for the great things on other worlds, I kind of forgot about what we've got on this one."

"Told ya." Jack smiled smugly.

"Colonel Carter, will you be needing a ride to the airport?" Teal'c inquired.

"Thanks, Teal'c, but my flight is leaving later." Which technically was true, Sam thought.

Daniel and Teal'c loaded their bags into the rental car, and drove off with a wave. Jack turned to Sam. "You can stop calling me 'General' now."

"Yes, sir."

Jack shook his head and put an arm around her shoulders.

After dinner Jack made a fire. "Observe the lost art of fire-making. You need to learn this..." He stopped, realizing how presumptuous that sounded. "Because… they probably didn't cover it in Girl Scouts."

"I think I can handle it." Sam smiled. "It ignites at Fahrenheit 451."

"I read that." Jack smiled slightly. He liked the way she poked at him, trying to figure him out, and it meant something to him that she'd referenced something that other people would think was a stretch for Jack O'Neill.

"I thought you didn't like science fiction." Sam was unexpectedly pleased to find out one tiny thing she didn't know about Jack, and hoped desperately she'd have the chance to find out more.

"I like the classics. Not the stuff they put out now."

He closed the screen and stood thoughtfully in front of the fireplace, his hands in his pockets, then he turned to face her, looking intently at her for a few moments. "Sam- I'm no good at talking. You know that." He walked over to the couch and sat down. "I lost Sara over it… I can't lose you." He studied her face as if he were looking for something that he'd lost a long time ago. She kept her eyes on his, barely breathing. Eventually, he raised his hand and touched her hair, then her face, and then brought his lips to hers to kiss her gently.

Sam put her arms around his neck, and then broke the kiss so she could lay her head on his shoulder, a few tears silently tracing down her face. Jack held onto her, eyes closed, and waited, uncertainly. Maybe Mark was right and all of this was too much for her, because Jack really wasn't sure what the tears were all about, so held simply held her close and waited. He would wait forever if he had to. Within a few minutes, Sam regained her composure and tilted her head back again to look at him. He'd never met anyone with eyes like that, and he remembered all the years he'd looked at them, but never in them. So much wasted time- but he was determined not to waste any more.

Then Sam kissed him, and he knew she was all right. They were all right.

"God, Sam…" Jack said, his voice deepened with years of suppressed desire. His arms tightened around her as he buried his face in her hair and then he kissed her again, almost violently, their mouths open and searching as he took her head in both of his hands. He moved his lips to her neck as he unbuttoned her blouse. "Jack," Sam tried to slow him down, "Jack." She cradled his face. They watched each other breathe, his hands slipping down to the small of her back. "If we cross this bridge, we'll burn it."

"I know." Jack said. His eyes were almost black in the dim light, and then he was on his feet pulling her along with him. Sam was vaguely aware of making it down the hallway, acquainting herself with the wall at least twice as they landed against it struggling to get out of their clothes and yet have their hands on each other at the same time.

And then they were in the room and Jack was pushing her into the bed, the entire weight of his body holding her down, their hands intertwined on either side of her head. He was redolent of wood smoke and pine pitch, and Sam felt the overwhelming sensation of him trip some kind of primal switch inside of her. Jack slid sideways, aggressively mouthing one nipple while he nudged her thighs apart with his knee. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he told himself that it wasn't supposed to be this way, as Sam laced her fingers through his hair and sighed deeply, and he thought the pleasure from that alone would kill him. There was supposed to be soft music, firelight, and maybe some wine. He slid his hand down between their bodies and stroked her until she insistently pushed her hips up against his hand, and then he slipped his fingers inside and she tightened around him, murmuring something unintelligible which he still understood. There should have been whispered confessions, a slow and gentle acknowledgement of their love. And above all else, self-control- because Jack O'Neill _never_ lost control.

But he had. He shifted his head to tease her other breast while her hand closed around him, and he reflexively bit down, his fingers pushing deeper. Sam moaned and neither one of them was really sure if it was from pleasure or pain. She dragged him up and lifted her head to catch his mouth, pulling him to her as she raised her legs around him. Jack reminded himself how he didn't want their first time together to be this way- him nailing her hips to the bed while she dug her fingers into his back and bit his shoulder to keep from screaming his name. He'd wanted to make love to her, but this didn't seem like love. It was desire, need, obsession…

Possession. He shuddered and his hips jerked forward as the lights went out and he emptied himself into her with a sound he didn't know he could make.

They were still for a while, and then Sam reached down, untangled the top sheet and drew it up over them, laying her head on his chest. He stroked her hair and struggled to speak. "Sam, I didn't mean to…"

"To act like you waited four years to make love to me?"

"More like eight, but that's beside the point." Jack felt her cheek bunch up in a smile, and he relaxed a little.

"I'm not normally like this, either." Sam explained, and felt his hand stop moving. _Nice choice of words, Carter. _She gritted her teeth.

"I don't care what you're normally like." Jack whispered fiercely, pulling her on top of him so he could see her eyes and push the thought of Sam and Pete out of his mind. "I hope you're never normal again."


	3. Just so Long and Long Enough

**Just so Long and Long Enough**

Jack sat at the kitchen table tapping his pencil on the crossword puzzle, coffee cup in front of him.

"Good morning," Sam said from behind him. He turned to see her standing in the doorway, in his blue flannel bathrobe.

"Well, " he said thoughtfully, "That old bathrobe didn't look _that _good the day I bought it."

Sam crossed her arms defensively. "It was all that I could find to wear."

"Maybe you shouldn't have left your clothes all over the house." He smiled, waving his pencil. Sam blushed and shook her head, embarrassed, irritated and happy all at the same time. She must still be awfully tired, she rationalized, as she sat down across from Jack, his brown eyes catching hers. It really wasn't fair that he should be so handsome this early in the morning. She wasn't ready for it yet.

"You're getting up a tad late, don't ya think? Want some coffee?" Jack put down his pencil and got up.

"Please. I guess I was just making up for lost time." Sam said, her head resting on her arms which were crossed on the table.

"I know I was." Jack said to the coffee machine.

"What?" Sam lifted her head.

"Huh?" Jack turned around. "Here's your coffee. Hey, give me that back."

Sam had the puzzle in her hands. "I'm not checking your answers. I just want to be sure none of them are in Ancient."

"Very funny. Now give it back." He was serious. He'd brought that all the way to Minnesota. She gave it back.

He came around the table to give her the coffee, then bent down to kiss the back of her neck, appreciating the advantages of a military haircut. Jack sat back down across the table from her, but didn't resume filling in the puzzle because something about her didn't seem right. Sam had her head propped up with one hand as she looked at him with concern.

"Problem?" he asked.

"What'd we do?"

"Well, now, Sam, you're a grown woman. I thought you knew."

Sam smiled, "You're in rare form today, aren't you?"

"Humor is my first line of defense."

"Against what?"

"Well, life in general, but you, more specifically." Jack sipped his coffee and waited for her reply.

"I'm not dangerous."

Jack studied her face for a while. He knew she believed what she'd said. "Well, then, what about it? We crossed the line."

"Pretty far, I'd say. I don't want to be court-martialed." Sam drank more of her coffee.

"Is that why I couldn't kiss you outside? Afraid of sat photos?"

She smiled. "You really think you've got my number, don't you?"

"Just the area code."

Sam put her head back down on her arms. Jack picked up their cups and poured refills. "Want one of my world-famous omelets?"

"Without the beer."

He threw the kitchen towel at her, then started cracking the eggs using only one hand. ""Sam, we're not going to be court-martialed. Things are different than they used to be."

"How do you know that?" Sam watched the eggs, impressed.

"We had an incident at the SGC a while back."

"An incident." Sam looked at Jack doubtfully. "I didn't hear anything about it."

"I get privileged information." Jack said grandly. "Anyway, I talked with a JAG I know…"

"I bet you know a lot of JAGs."

"Yes, I'm a very bad boy." Sam didn't doubt that. Jack mixed and then poured the eggs into the pan. "It's only going to be cheese- that's all I have. Anyway, this particular couple was fairly irreplaceable."

"Irreplaceable?" Sam sipped her coffee. He really was a poor liar, but it was cute to watch.

"She said there were several options, but the most important thing was not to hide anything from one's superior officers." Jack flipped the omelet. Sam was really impressed now. Then she wondered if this was a staple of his diet. Probably. He gave it to her and started on the next one.

"You didn't give this JAG any names, did you?" Sam said cautiously.

"No, she didn't ask."

"That's a good friend."

"Yes. I don't like lawyers. She is- I don't know- human." Jack finished making his omelet and sat down. "Of course, now that I've met a lot of aliens, I'm not always sure that's a compliment."

"Then what's plan A?"

"Well, it's a little late now, but I think we can get it done by quitting time tomorrow." Jack took a bite.

Sam put her fork down. "Get what done?"

"Get hitched." Jack watched her face, but not for long. She put her head back down on the table.

Jack picked up his cup and went into the living room, put his feet on the coffee table and stared at the cold fireplace. Sam eventually came in the room and sat on the floor next to the chair in which Jack sat, her head resting on the arm. He didn't move. Sam took his hand and laid her cheek against it. Jack looked down at her. _You are dangerous_. Then he lifted his hand and ran his fingers through her hair.

After a moment, Sam turned her face upwards to look at Jack, trying to read his thoughts, which she knew from experience was impossible. So she got up on her knees, kissed his neck and then let his short, steel-colored hair brush her face. Jack put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back.

"Carter, what do you want?" He let go of her, and closed his eyes, laying his head back against the chair. "You just shot me down."

"I didn't shoot you down. I didn't say anything." Sam said, rocking back onto her heels. "You surprised me, that's all. Tell me Plans B and C, Jack."

He sighed and wondered if was going to spend the rest of his life trying to figure her out. "One or both of us could be re-assed or I could retire."

"No!" Sam said with alarm. "Who knows who we'd get if you did that. General Bauer almost got us all killed. Dr. Weir's in Atlantis..."

"Yeah, but if we don't own up to it, well- that's where the court-martial comes in, or George could just send us wherever the hell he feels like. I wish we had time, but we don't." It was clear Plan A was the winner, as frightening as it seemed.

Sam smiled. "I feel much better knowing you really don't want to marry me. It's a shotgun wedding courtesy of the USAF."

"You _are_ a smartass." Jack sat back in his chair with a wry grin.

Sam looked down. "You don't have to do it, Jack, and I won't take the chance. I already put in for a transfer to Area 51."

"Take the _chance_?" Jack shook his head in utter disbelief. "When were you gonna tell me this- when it came across my desk?"

"No." It was never good to see Jack mad, and to have him mad at her was almost unbearable- yet he'd done it more in one week than in her entire time on SG-1. They'd spent so much time talking past each other that they'd forgotten how to talk to each other.

"So what was this? A nice weekend and some hot sex before you take off for Nevada?" He couldn't help it, and he couldn't take it anymore. Not from her. Sam stood up and headed for the door. "You can't run off this time, Carter. There's twenty miles of nothing out there, and you're only wearing my bathrobe."

Sam turned around and stared at him. "I thought I couldn't lose. If I found out you wanted me, the regs wouldn't apply, and if you didn't, I might as well be there." She took a deep breath. "I won't take a _chance_ on staying at the SGC and have it blow up in our faces."

Jack swallowed hard. He'd gotten her wrong again. "You're giving up the stargate because of me?"

Sam nodded. "You still have to approve it, sir. Either way."

The word didn't go unnoticed. "So you're throwing it back in my lap." Jack said bitterly as he stood up.

"No. It's your job."

"When am I going to see this paperwork?"

"I imagine it's under a pile on your desk right now."

"So I get to pit the fate of the galaxy against what we want?"

"It's always been that way, Jack." Sam said evenly. "The question is, what's going to win out this time?" She walked out to the dock and let the door slam.

Jack went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, then glanced at the clock and closed it. Ten o'clock was pushing it even for him. He leaned against the door for several minutes and then went out to find her, staring at the water.

"I'll let you go." He stood behind her, where the dock met the ground.

"Thank you, sir." She didn't turn around.

"Stop it, Carter."

"It's a good strategic decision." Sam almost spat out the words. "The Go'auld are defeated, the Replicators gone, we have some Asgard and Go'auld technology. I'm more useful in R & D. What I want to know is," she turned to look at him, her hands shoved in the pockets of the robe,"what if it was six months ago?"

"What if it was, Sam? Would _you_ be asking to go then?"

The words echoed out across the pond.

"No, Jack..."

He closed his eyes momentarily. Jack knew work was her life, he just didn't expect to be slapped across the face with that fact.

She walked over to him and touched his face. "...I'd be asking you for the name of a good JAG."

They left Minnesota a day earlier than they'd planned. By sheer force of will, they managed to sleep in their own respective homes. Jack rose early the next morning and paced the floor, cursing the fact that Nevada was in the Pacific time zone. As early as he reasonably could, Jack phoned area 51, and then Sam.

"You're fired."

"Thank you, sir." Sam paused. "I'm going to miss you."

"I think we'll see more of each other this way."

Sam laughed and Jack stared at the receiver, wondering what the hell was so funny. Then he smiled. "Sam, you've got a dirty mind. Why don't you bring it over here?"

They lay tangled up in each other, while Jack mapped out the situation. "You've got about a week to get there. General Giuliano wants you to head up R & D, so you'll be directly under him. But I explained you'd be directly under me on the weekends."

"Jack! You didn't."

"Of course not. I'll save the jokes for Hammond." He pulled her up onto his chest, his eyes smiling.

"Do you have to call him?"

"I think so, Sam. It's a pretty big change, and he'll know why." Jack ran his fingers down her spine. "You're also the main contact with Darla. I've never heard of her but Giuliano seems to think she's damned important."

"DARPA, Jack." Sam suppressed a grin.

"Whatever." Jack shrugged. As far as he was concerned R & D could mean Republicans and Democrats, they were all about as useless 99 percent of the time. Of course, Carter would improve those numbers quite a bit.

"I guess General Hammond shouldn't have to find out from a piece of paper on his desk, either." Sam grew thoughtful again.

"It's O.K. It was a good strategic decision."

Sam raised herself up on her arms and evaluated his expression. "We've hurt each other a lot over the years. We've got to let it all go."

"I never hurt you."

"Shall we start with Laira and go from there?"

"Oh. No."

"We can't even talk to each other like normal human beings, and that makes you jump to conclusions."

_"You_ always assume the worst-case scenario."

"It's my nature."

"Right, you blow up suns and make asteroids fly through the earth." Jack said, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Gotta be careful about that."

"Okay, here's the deal. Promise me you'll never bring up anything bad that happened before Dad died, or we can plan on years in counseling. Which is it going to be?"

Jack felt around in his soul. There were still a lot of raw spots. Orlin. Martouf. Repeated rejections to go to the lake. Joe Faxon. Humming. And that goddamn little black box. But _shrinks_?

"I'm good with forgetting about it." Sam said, nestling her head back down on his shoulder.

"Can you read my mind?" He turned and kissed her forehead.

"I've been working on that project for years, Jack, but it usually fails field testing."

"I hope you won't need it any more."

"Yeah. Me, too."

Sam was sleeping when Jack left to go to the base. He stood buttoning his shirt and watched her. She still worried him, and he suspected she always would, one way or the other. Despite what he'd told her the night she'd showed him Pete's ring, he really wasn't so sanguine about letting her go through the gate. He was so damned relieved she'd decided to stop going, so he wouldn't have to ask her to quit, but he knew if a big enough threat arose she'd want to go again.

Or he'd have to make her. He tried not to think about that possibility.

In fact, he shouldn't have been thinking about any of this. He'd known what he was getting into- it was her love of excitement and new ideas that had intrigued him in the first place. She liked thrills. A beautiful woman who liked guns and motorcycles, and who could fly a jet all the while telling him how a jet flies…_damn_. He looked over at her. _Better get out of here while you still can._

Jack got up and started to leave.

"Jack?"

He shut his eyes, opened them, and turned around. "I have to go to the base." Stop being so beautiful, he thought. I'm weak.

Sam leaned up on her elbow. "All right. Just tell me good-bye."

He sat on the bed and pushed her golden hair back from her face, then tipped her head back and kissed her, his heart starting to pound, again. She pushed gently on his shoulder, breaking the embrace.

"Now get to work." Sam fell back on her pillow.

Jack shook his head with a rueful smile. He could live with the way things were.

At his office, he signed off on a few mission reports. It was nice to have a little lull in the galactic action, but his eyes were repeatedly drawn to the telephone. He really needed to call Hammond. They'd catch hell if he found out about them through the grapevine. Finally, he got up and closed the door.

"General Hammond." O'Neill greeted his boss formally.

"Jack…" Hammond warned, good-naturedly.

"Yes, sir, George." Well, that was just about as stupid, Jack thought. Now I've turned him into royalty.

"To what do I owe the honor of a phone call, Jack? I just left there, remember?" Hammond never really got tired of hearing from Jack. He was great entertainment.

"Yes, I know, George, and we all really appreciate you coming for Jacob's funeral. Carter especially." Jack swallowed.

"How is she?"

_You have no idea_. "She's good. In fact, that's why I'm calling."

Hammond sat up in his chair. Something in Jack's voice didn't sound right. He was nervous and that was damned rare for Jack.

"Jack?"

"She's fallen for some guy, George. She's asked to go to Area 51." Jack said, fiddling with the drawer pulls on his desk.

"Well, that was fast, I thought that wasn't going to happen for another couple of months." George was pleased Jack would think to call him. He'd hoped to receive an invitation any day now.

Jack looked at the phone. How did he know?

"Jack?"

"Yes, George." Jack's mind was racing.

"You were telling me about Sam and Pete."

Pete! Jack hit his head with the palm of his hand. So much had happened in such a short time that he had completely forgotten Sam was supposed to become someone else's wife.

"George, it's not Sam and Pete. It's Sam and me. George?" Jack said into a completely silent phone.

A few moments passed. "Hot damn, Jack! It's about time." George's accent was in full twang at the news.

Jack sat back in his chair, feeling relieved- for a few seconds.

"How does this affect the command, Jack?"

"It's a good strategic decision. We're not fighting anybody and she can work on the new alien technology." Jack hated saying it and hated himself for agreeing with it.

"All right, Jack." George paused. "I do want to let you know something."

"Yeah?" Jack didn't like the sound of it already.

"I'm retiring, and I have a replacement in mind. I'm announcing it in a week."

Jack didn't say anything.

"One of my areas of responsibility is Area 51."

Jack stood in the briefing room looking down at the gate as he had done hundreds, maybe thousands of times before. He remembered back to- was it really nearly a year?- when he'd almost quit over his own perceived incompetence, and then he'd realized anybody else would just be worse. Now it was the same damn thing, only the wrong person could have the whole damned galaxy FUBAR, not just the SGC.

Eight hours of freedom. That's what they'd had. Eight hours out of eight years. There was probably some kind of beautiful mathematical proportion that Sam could find in there, but Jack was damned if he could.

* * *

Sam let herself into the house that soon wouldn't be hers anymore. The place didn't even look lived in. The only things of any real value to her were her books, clothing and the pictures. It was a beautiful and empty house. 

She walked into the bedroom and opened the drawer where she'd put the picture of Pete. It didn't feel right to throw it away, but she did. She went to the next drawer down, reached under a few sheets of paper and pulled out the picture of Jack and her in full combat gear, smiling over what was undoubtedly one of his jokes. That one she set on the nightstand. It's funny, she thought. All the time she was engaged to Pete, it never occurred to her to throw that one out. Well, it's just two team members having a laugh.

But if so, then why had she put it in the drawer? She picked it up and studied it. Now she saw, saw why she liked it in the first place and why it was put away. Jack was standing too close to her, his hand on her arm. They weren't looking at each other like team members. They were looking at each other like lovers. Sam unfastened the back of the frame because she knew Daniel had taken the picture, and he had a thing about proper dating. She pulled the back off, and saw that the picture was five years old. The things she could never admit to herself came out in a picture anyway. Bitterly, she thought of the sacrifices she and Jack- well, really all of SG-1- had made and hoped they were worth it. They had to be.

She put that picture in her suitcase along with the other things she needed, took a couple of books off of the bookshelf and started to drive back to Jack's house, and then suddenly slowed down just a few blocks away. They'd never even talked about her staying with him. She'd just assumed. But, she guessed she'd better run it by Jack. One never knew.

One did know. She pulled up to his house to find a young lieutenant standing on the doorstep. He immediately recognized her as she stepped out of her car, even in her jeans and sweater, and blushing, he saluted. "At ease, Lieutenant." Sam said. "What brings you all the way out here?"

"Package for you, ma'am." They were Jacob's belongings, she thought. Her chest tightened.

"Well, let's get it inside, Lieutenant." They walked to the government car and he popped the trunk. As she reached in, the airman hurriedly said, "I'll get that, ma'am." Sam looked at him. "Yes ma'am." She picked up the box. The young man hurried up the steps to beat her to the front door, and opened it for her. Sam set the box down just inside the door.

"That will be all, Lieutenant." He saluted her and walked down the narrow path to the street. Just before he got to the car, Sam saw him notice the mailbox. O'Neill.

Great, she thought. She waited for the car to leave before pulling out her suitcase. She didn't want him to give him the wrong impression, though he undoubtedly already had one. As she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open with her foot, Jack drove up. Sam smiled and shut the door, then walked down the steps to meet him. The look on his face made her stop halfway down.

"We're screwed," he said simply, looking up at her.

"What?" Sam held out her hand.

"Hammond's retiring and I have to take his place."

He came up the stairs and put his arm around her waist, and for just a moment nothing else mattered. "I like coming home to find you here." He kissed her in full view of God and the NID. He hadn't really been kidding Sam about the sat photos because he knew a lot of people wanted them gone. Too bad, now.

Jack put the box in the living room and then flopped on the couch, pulling Sam down with him. Neither one of them spoke as the news registered in Sam's brain. "I'll still be in your chain of command, no matter where I go."

"Yeah."

"I'll go to work for DARPA."

"No, Sam." Jack sat up and turned to her. "I won't let you."

Sam's eyes flashed and she started to speak, but Jack gently laid a finger across her lips. "Shut up and let _me_ talk, for a change. I'm doing this because I have to. But you love your work. I'm not taking that away from you- you can do what you want and we'll figure it out."

"How?"

"You're working for Area 51 as of 6 pm, Sam. I'm not in charge of HWS yet. We've got time, maybe a week."

"I can't decide unless you, _Jack, _not General O'Neill, tell me what you want. You know what happens when you just tell me what you _think_ I want to hear."

"We weren't gonna bring that up."

"What?" Sam shrugged obliviously.

Jack smiled, seeing himself in her. "I don't want you going through the gate." He took a deep breath. "But I won't stop you."

"Well, I wouldn't want to make the General look indecisive." Sam nuzzled the side of his neck.

"Plan A is back in effect, by the way."

"Plan A never works." Sam murmured from somewhere in the vicinity of his jaw. "Let's call it Plan B."

"Okay." Jack paused. "You'll marry me?"

"Yes," she whispered into his ear. Then she kissed it.

Jack had a funny feeling that this was another romantic moment that he was about to turn into a naked free-for-all. He grabbed her hand and stood. "Come on, Samantha. It's time to take this out of the room."


	4. Four Inch Heels

**Four-Inch Heels**

Jack stood nervously in the middle of his own living room. It struck him as very unusual that he'd killed her, killed for her, taken care of her wounds, lost her, found her and loved her. Yet, they'd never been on a date. He guessed it was because they didn't really need to get acquainted, and anything beyond that wasn't allowed. Until now.

"Ready."

He turned around. "You're beautiful." Jack sighed. "Will you wear high heels and a skirt for me everyday?"

"Sure, if it's not snowing."

"It doesn't snow in Area 51." Jack resisted the urge to grab her ass as she walked out the door in front of him. He could wait until he had marital ass-grabbing rights.

"Where are we going?" Sam noticed he looked particularly handsome in a black shirt and sports jacket, and concluded he must have someplace nice picked out.

"The Officer's Club," he smirked.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "You're teasing me again."

"You're an easy mark, Sam." He pulled her car into the dark parking lot. "Besides, I don't want to spend the evening answering questions." He opened her door. "I want to spend it with you."

Sam smiled. She knew that this was about as romantic as Jack O'Neill was ever going to get, and she didn't want to waste a moment of it, either. They were seated by the window, and it suddenly struck her that in a few days she be gone from this familiar city and the SGC.

"Sam?" Jack saw the wistful look cross her face.

"Nostalgic already, I guess. I do need to go say goodbye and pack up my lab."

"You don't have to leave." _But I want you to._

"Remember up on the mountain when I told you I was tired of looking at the stars?"

"Yeah. I thought it was a damned weird thing for an astrophysicist to say."

"It's true. And I'll be closer to Cassie's school in California. It's what I want, Jack. Really. It's just further from Washington."

"Then I know your first orders from Home World Security." Jack picked up his glass, smiling.

"What?"

"Get that Asgard beaming technology on every ship."

"I can do that."

"I know it." Jack took a drink and looked at Sam thoughtfully. "So when do you want to do it?"

"I don't know."

"How about tomorrow?" Jack waited for Sam to blush and start stumbling over her words, but she just looked back at him, her clear blue eyes shining in the dim light of the cafe.

"Tomorrow's good, Jack." He tried not to heave a sigh of relief.

As they were leaving the restaurant, he helped Sam into her coat and then took her hand, his other hand on the door, which magically opened by itself. "General!" boomed a familiar voice. "I'll be damned, I never see you out. And Sam, too!"

Colonel Dixon. Sam instinctively pulled her hand away from Jack, but he tightened his grip as they stepped outside. "How are you- and Mrs. Dixon?"

"We're great." Mrs. Dixon smiled. "Just taking a kid break."

"It's nice to see you both again." Sam said.

"Well, what's up with you two?" Dixon suddenly noticed their hands. He turned to Sam, smiling. "Sam?"

"We're celebrating." Sam said.

"She's leaving the SGC."

It took Dixon a couple of seconds to process the seemingly contradictory pieces of information. "When?" A slow grin spread across his face.

"Well…" Jack said, checking his watch, "A couple of hours ago."

"Goddamn, you two. Let me buy you some drinks."

"No, thanks," Sam quickly replied. "We've got some things we need to do."

"I'll bet you do." Dixon grinned while his wife rolled her eyes and pushed him inside.

"No wonder they have so many kids." Sam smiled. She found it harder to walk coming out of the restaurant than going in and wondered if the champagne had anything to do with that. Or maybe it was the shoes.

"Yeah, Dixon loves his wife a lot. In every sense of the word." Jack casually wrapped his arms around her waist as they stood by the passenger door of her car.

"Are you going to love me like that in ten years?"

"If I'm still alive." Jack kissed her neck.

"If _I'm_ still alive." Sam said, picturing herself running a department of Felgers, McKays and Lees. Jack didn't quite take it that way, and his arms tightened around her.

"Jack, I meant the scientists in the lab."

"For now."

"Forever. If there were anything else out there, we'd have known about it by now."

"It's a big freaking universe."

"Jack, you think too much," and before he could reply to that astonishing statement, Sam kissed him, finding that four-inch heels put her at just the right height. Jack found himself more than willing to stop thinking so much and pivoted her around against the car door, tightening his grip. He caught her between the car and his body and pressed into her, a move Sam was willing to write off as a temporary loss of balance until he did it again, deliberately and provocatively, rocking his hips against that sensitive part of her that also happened to be at just the right height.

While it was true that Sam had found the last few days with Jack extremely liberating, they really needed to focus on keeping it legal. Right now. And as soon as Jack quit sucking on her collarbone and caressing her thigh, she was going to set him straight. Really. Then she forgot about it as he slid his hand higher, thinking instead that he was centimeters away from finding out just how shamelessly hot for him she really was.

He pushed against her again with a stifled moan and set off the car alarm. "Fuck," he whispered hoarsely.

"Unfortunately not." Sam stated before she could catch herself.

Jack looked at her with a surprised grin as the lights flashed on and off. He pushed the alarm button on the keychain and pulled her close. "Are you drunk?"

"Maybe." She kissed his ear just like she had at the house earlier that evening.

"What am I getting myself into?" he groaned.

"Nothing, at the moment." She gave him a slow smile that made his blood run hot and he thought he'd never heard a bad dirty joke sound sweeter in his entire life.

"Damn, Carter, get in the car. Now."

He had her up against the inside of the front door, holding her head back against the door with his mouth on hers, which freed up his hands to slip under her shirt. Jack marveled that a battle-hardened soldier could be so… soft.

"Maybe the bedroom…" Sam suggested as soon as his lips left hers to find a new way to pleasure her.

"No. Shoes-" Jack murmured against her breast. Sam thought she might be able to stand on one leg even in her inebriated state since he had her pinned to the door, and she lifted up her left foot. Jack slid his hand down her arm, giving her a slight chill, and pulled her wrist up. "Leave 'em."

"Oh." Now she understood. He moved both hands to her legs and slid them slowly under her skirt and up her thighs, her breath coming in short bursts. His thumbs slid into the legs of her panties and she squirmed against them, her head still back against the door, eyes closed. "Jack."

"Sam?" He hooked his fingers around her panties and pulled them down so she could kick them free. "You wanted something?" He slid between her legs and moved against her just like he had at the car, painfully teasing them both. For a split second, Sam resented his easy manipulation of her, but then decided a little _quid pro quo_ was in order, and she deftly freed what she wanted from his pants without opening her eyes.

Jack sucked in a breath. "You're devious." She opened her eyes halfway and smiled, unraveling Jack's threadbare restraint. He firmly removed her hands, pulled one long, lovely leg to his hip and pushed forward, making the door lock rattle and Sam's eyes fly open as she grasped at his shirt collar. They stared at each other, their souls laid bare, their trust in each other implicit and powerful, as their rhythm gradually drew them out. It must have been the fact that this was as close to a religious experience as Jack ever got, because the last coherent thought he had was gratefulness that an old soldier with a bad back could be blessed with a tall woman wearing four-inch heels.


	5. The Aftermark of Almost too Much Love

**The Aftermark of Almost Too Much Love**

Daniel!" Sam screamed, "They're both down, oh my God, Daniel!" She sat stiffly upright in the bed, drenched, her eyes open but blind. "Medic! _Two_ more medics, now!"

Jack, who'd bolted awake with his .44 in his hand, dropped it and held her. "Sshh, Sam. It's all right. Wake up, Sam, c'mon."

"Jack." She slumped against him but her voice didn't register relief, only despair and anguish. He held her in his arms, his heart pounding. "Jack, please." She was begging, now.

Jack rocked her as he'd rocked Charlie through his bad dreams, only he was pretty sure Sam's were infinitely worse. Eventually, she sighed. "Are you all right?" He didn't ask her what it was.

"I think… maybe seeing Colonel Dixon." Sam put her head on his chest. "I do this all the time, Jack. But this is the first one since I've been with you."

"I wish I could help you, Sam." Jack gently laid her down and brushed the damp hair from her face.

"You have, Jack. You will." She held his hand and swiftly fell back to sleep. Her simple confidence in him both humbled Jack and filled him with pride, and he wondered how the hell he was going to survive being away from her now.

* * *

"We're in big trouble if they already found out." Sam said as she and Jack walked out to his truck. 

"Yeah, I know. Daniel and Teal'c would be pissed, but I think Dixon's on leave." Jack tossed the keys to her and opened the driver's side door. "You drive, I've got to make a call."

Sam stood at the end of the sidewalk, arms crossed and head tilted, with a wry smile on her face. "Yes, sir."

"Sorry, Sam. It's like a parallel universe."

"Yeah, but the quantum mirror is the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain."

Jack sighed. He did need to change, but he thought it was highly ironic since she was the one who was actually in charge. "Sam, would you drive?"

"Okay." Sam stepped happily up into the truck without another word.

He climbed in on the other side. "You can drive a stick?"

Sam shot him a look, and put it in gear.

"I love it when you do that."

Jack phoned his buddy, the sheriff. When he shut the phone, he looked over at Sam. "I told him that one of the civilians had a fiancée from Ellsworth who was shipping out to Iraq and they had to get married today. He said he'd come in, day or night, for them."

"Oh, that's really nice. What's he going to do when he finds out it's us?" Sam asked.

"I'll probably owe him a six pack." Jack put his phone away. "You need flowers. Nice ones." He smiled.

"Don't tell me, Jack…."

"Yes. They must be peridot." God, she was fun to tease.

"I don't know that color." Sam shook her head. "Do flowers even come in that?"

"Daniel will know. Let's send him." Jack liked watching her drive his truck. He'd give her anything she wanted if he could- and pretty soon she'd have everything he owned- but he was still worried about her knowing everything he was. What did they call it back on that Mongol planet? "The madness." Yeah, he had that. He ought to be too old for it.

"Daniel will have to recover from the shock before he does _anything_." Sam glanced briefly at him. She was still reeling from the last few days- and things weren't getting any steadier- but it wasn't as if they'd just met, after all. She knew him better than she'd ever known Pete. Sometimes, though, she still felt a little worried about him. Sam wondered how long it would be until she was holding him as he screamed in the middle of the night, and she reminded herself to get the .44 out from under the mattress and stash it somewhere else.

They entered the base together. Sam insisted Jack go down first, alone. She didn't think walking in like a couple of Cheshire cats would be terribly professional, although Jack clearly didn't give a damn.

O'Neill looked in his locker and found that his dress blues were back and in perfect shape, right down to the shoes. He thought he'd save some time and asked one of the female airmen to get Colonel Carter's uniform, which she did without question. Jack took them all up to his office, zipped them into a hanging bag and then he paged SG-1.

Sam came into the room. "I can't find my blues," she said, concerned.

"I had an airman go in and get them." O'Neill said. "They're over there with mine."

Carter was livid. "Don't do that again, sir." Her face was flushed.

"Wait a minute, what did I do?" O'Neill said, defensively. "I thought I was helping." He waved his hand in the direction of the coat rack.

"Didn't you think the airman would wonder why you want my things? Isn't there already enough talk on the base without you contributing to it?"

"Lighten up, Carter." Jack's voice dropped.

"With all due respect, General, no."

"Listen Sam, I've got more to lose than you do over this. You're valuable. I'm replaceable." Jack was irritated. He'd really not thought of it as anything but a favor, but he was wrong. They were on the other side of the mirror now.

"Then don't show me any favoritism. I don't want anyone to think I've gotten where I have by sleeping with the General."

At that moment, Daniel walked in the office. "Hey guys, what's up?"

"We're getting married, " O'Neill scowled. Sam turned and looked out the window into the briefing room.

Daniel raised his eyebrows, then shut the door, and sat down. "Well, okaaay- do you need a witness or a referee?"

Sam turned around and looked at Daniel. She smiled and relaxed her shoulders. "You don't sound surprised."

"Oh come on, Sam. You two are so pathetic. I never wanted to interfere, and I decided if you wanted to talk you would have said something." Daniel hugged her. "On the other hand, I don't really think Jack's your type."

"Daniel." Jack said, warningly.

"Actually, _I_ am, but I gave up years ago."

"Daniel, I still know how to punch your lights out."

"Yeah, I remember, the first time you did that, it was over Sam. Of course, you weren't really yourself, but…" Daniel smirked.

"_Daniel_." Jack gave him a piercing look.

"You can tell me some other time." Sam said with a smile. As much as she was dying to hear the story, they really did need to get busy and Jack needed to calm down. She put her hand on Daniel's arm. "Right now, we just need some help. Do you know the color peridot?"

"Of course not." Daniel shook his head.

"Oh, for crying out loud, aren't you scientists supposed to know everything?" O'Neill was exasperated. "Okay, here's an easier question. What are you doing tonight?"

Daniel grinned. "I think I have a wedding to attend."

At that moment, Teal'c walked in. "O'Neill. You wanted to see me."

"They're getting married." Daniel beamed like a proud father.

Teal'c smiled. "Of course. It is- as the Tau'ri often say- 'about time'."

"You're not surprised, either?" Sam asked.

"No. In fact, I remember when O'Neill first kissed you, Colonel Carter, though you do not."

"What?" Daniel and Sam said in unison. They both stared at Jack. _You've got some explaining to do_. He smiled and shrugged.

"Let's move it along here folks." O'Neill said. "No more war stories. Teal'c, any chance you know the color peridot?" he asked, doubtfully.

"Of course, O'Neill. In my time off the base I became very proficient at distinguishing shades and hues. It is important in fine home decorating."

"Yes, I remember your apartment, Teal'c. It was really striking. I think you're the right man for the job." Daniel said, slapping Teal'c's back and turning to O'Neill. "What's the job?"

"Teal'c has to go get flowers."

Everyone looked at Teal'c, each with their own humorous vignette in mind. He nodded, completely unperturbed. "It will be my pleasure."

Jack stopped the truck in front of Sam's house. "I'll pick you up in a little while." Sam smiled uncertainly, and didn't get out of the truck.

"Are you going to bail on me now?" Jack asked, his left arm draped across the steering wheel.

"You've had longer to think about this than I've had, Jack."

"It was all speculation until a few days ago." He wondered why he was always in the position of trying to figure out whether to kiss her or yell at her. "I'll be back in a couple of hours to take you downtown." He reached over the back seat, then handed her the dress blues and shoes.

Sam stepped out of the truck. She turned around and said, "I'll be here, Jack. I promise."

"I'm holding you to that." Sam shut the door and watched him drive up the street.

Jack straightened his tie in the mirror. He didn't care for the way the blue uniform made his hair look whiter, but there wasn't much to be done about that. It probably should have been that way decades ago given what he did for a living, and it didn't seem to bother Sam. He remembered the feel of her fingers in his hair, and that alone caused him to breathe slightly faster. Jack sat down on the edge of his bed, inspecting his hat, which was perfect. He kept turning it around and around, holding the brim, not really looking at it. After a while, he stood up, checked his pocket, and left the house.

He rang the bell at Sam's house. No answer. He rang it again, and checked the door. It wasn't locked, so he let himself in and took off his sunglasses. "Sam?" No answer. "Sam!"

He felt his face grow hot and his ears started to ring. She had really done it. She'd left. He checked for a note in any reasonably obvious place, and found nothing. Damn her. She sure as hell _did_ have a problem with commitment, or maybe she was too worried about her goddamn work. Jack tried to be sympathetic, given what she'd been through in recent days, but found that particular emotion was not forthcoming, in the least.

He put his sunglasses back on and strode toward the door, running right into Sam as she came in from the garage.

"Damn it, Carter, where the hell have you been?" Jack demanded.

"Jack, what's wrong? I was in the garage." While blue might not have been Jack's best color, Sam was stunning in it. Her blue eyes glimmered and the effort of whatever she was up to in the garage gave her pale, luminescent skin a slight flush. Jack was speechless. She had _lipstick_ on. His first impulse was to take it off.

"The tiny bit of sole on the heel of my shoe fell off, so I went out to fix it. I'm sorry if I didn't hear you come in, I had to hammer it back on. You know, the material in this can't be expected to withstand repetitive powerful angular impacts- think of the psi- all it is, is a piece of rubber attached with glue when at the very least… "

"Sam!" Jack grabbed her by both shoulders. "Okay. Will it work? I don't want my bride limping down the aisle."

"Jack, there's no aisle," she said, holding onto his arm to put the shoe on her foot.

He tried to read her face. "Does that bother you? I'm sorry that it's not more…"

The look on his face nearly made Sam cry. She put her hand on his cheek. "Why would I care about a big wedding, Jack? I have everything I want." She stopped, for a brief second. _I do, Dad. I hope you know that. _A bittersweet little smile clung to her face as she followed Jack down the hall. As they left the house, Sam reminded him to lock the door, and then they climbed into the truck. "Don't worry about the shoe, Jack. It's fine."

"I know, " Jack smiled. "You fixed the stargate. You can handle a shoe."

Her hands were so slender, it was hard to believe they could fire a P-90 or knock a man out cold. Jack slid the gold band over her finger. He could feel her shaking, and held her hands more tightly. Then he kissed her, and his smile was so broad that his face hurt. Life was being very, very good to Jack O'Neill, and it had been a damn long time coming. Now, if they could just go fishing, it'd be perfect.

There wasn't anyone to catch Sam's flowers, so she gave them to Jack. The sheriff raised an eyebrow when he saw how pleased Jack was, and he made sure Jack gave them back for the pictures.

"Let's go out." Daniel suggested. "We need to celebrate."

"We may attract unwanted attention, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c, standing resplendent in his Chulak ceremonial robes.

"Ya think?" Jack asked rhetorically, looking around at the four of them. "Let's go to my place. I have better beer than Sam does." Jack said, opening the door to the street.

"Shouldn't you two, be, uh, combining beers pretty soon?" Daniel asked, buttoning up his jacket against the cool night air.

"It was sudden, Daniel. We haven't had time to think about beer disposition." He didn't want to ruin the evening by telling them about Sam's plans. "See you at my house."

"The door's open," Sam added. Jack looked at her. "Well, it is, isn't it?"

"Why do I feel like I just married my best pal?" Jack asked, as he climbed into the cab and shut the door.

"You best pal wouldn't do this." Sam kissed him, loosening up his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

"Let's go to your house and say we forgot where the party was," Jack suggested, his hand caressing her shoulder.

"No." Sam said. "We can't keep them waiting. It's not nice."

"You're a tease, Carter." Jack smiled, looking into the rearview mirror to back up.

"You like it." He didn't disagree as he drove the truck down the quiet city street.


	6. whatever a sun will always sing is you

**whatever a sun will always sing is you**

Jack spent the next day in his office trying to clear his desk of all the paperwork Colonel Reynolds couldn't deal with and which Jack had been putting off, hoping they would compost themselves into a little pile of dust. He sighed and pulled out a request for reassignment- Sam's reassignment. Suddenly, with the paper in his hands, the reality of the situation struck him and he felt a dark, nebulous rage building up. She was leaving him to save him. How fucked up was _that_? Neither of them wanted her at the SGC, though for different reasons, and she was far too valuable to be stuck at the Pentagon. He couldn't come up with an appropriate spot for her there in his wildest dreams without taking a beating from the brass higher up. So off to Area 51 for her, and they could just suck it up like they'd been doing for years. He put his head in his hands and wondered if they'd ever have a normal life and be normal people without nightmares, without concealed weapons permits, without naquada in their blood.

The phone rang, jerking him out of his misery. "Yeah. O'Neill."

"Jack. You don't sound so peppy, son." It amused Jack that there was someone left on this earth that could call him "son."

"Sorry, George. Signing Carter's re-ass papers."

"I heard you had a little party, Jack. That was smart- but you should have invited your CO." Jack could hear the smile in George's voice. Damn. News did travel fast. "I have to say I'm catching a little flak over this, Jack. You didn't do anything wrong, by the books- it just looks contrived."

"It was." Jack stated flatly. The Air Force could do a lot of things to them, but one thing it couldn't do was annul a marriage.

"It'll be all right, but I have to ask you a few things."

_Yeah. Find out if it really is a strategic decision._

"Are we under any threat that would make her essential personnel at the SGC?"

"No. All quiet on the galactic front."

"You got married yesterday, but you've cared for her a lot longer than that, Jack."

Jack didn't know what to say. If he said "no", that would be a lie and pretty much unbelievable given the circumstances. If he said "yes", it could be interpreted as fraternization. "That's true, George."

"I never once saw you make inappropriate command decisions because of Sam." George said.

Jack heaved a sigh of relief. "George, I actually killed her in the interest of national security."

Hammond laughed. "You've convinced me. Just remember, I'm responsible for you two. Don't screw this up. Now, I'll hang up and you get a three-way call set up between Sam, you, and me."

O'Neill set the phone down. Let's see, a three-way call between his office, his house, and General Hammond. He picked up the receiver, and put it down. Set up a call between his office and his house? He was sure the communications center was one of the gossip hotbeds on the base.

He dialed home. Sam answered with a simple, "O'Neill's."

"Sam." Jack was unexpectedly pleased to hear her voice at the end of his phone number, saying his name- their name.

"Hi. What's up?" Sam was actually out of bed, showered and dressed before ten o'clock for the first time in days.

"Can't I call my beautiful wife for no reason?"

"You can, but you don't,"

"Less than twenty-four hours, and you know this?" Jack smiled. She was right.

"I do."

"You did."

"I know." Sam smiled, twisting the ring on her finger. "So?"

"So, Hammond wants to talk to you."

Sam's smile evaporated.

Jack could feel her unease. "Sam, he thinks it'll be okay. I just wanted to ask you about a three-way call with him. You're at my house, and the operator will know it." Jack waited.

"I told you I'm not hiding this under a rock, Jack. If it's pertinent to work, then we deal with it at work. Otherwise, we leave it at the door."

"I don't get it," Jack whined, "Now that we're married I'm going to have to _stop_ watching your… you ... walk down the corridor?"

"For crying out loud, Jack, just set up the call." Sam hung up. Jack looked at the phone and smiled again. Despite everything, he was doing a lot of that lately.

He dialed the base operator. "Hello, this is General O'Neill. I need a three-party call set up between my office, my home and General Hammond." Jack listened, "Yes, that's what I said. It'll be Colonel Carter. Ring General Hammond last, please." He hung up.

Around nine, Jack let himself in to a darkened house. He hung up his jacket, and turned on the hallway light. In the dim light, he could see Sam, asleep on the couch. There was a box beside her, with a few things scattered around it, their identities too difficult to ascertain. Jack carefully walked around the box, noticing that Sam's face was tear-stained and pale. He looked at her with a lump in his throat, and he intensity of his feelings stunned and scared him.

Then he noticed she was holding something- a little doll that used to be black and white. Jack lifted it gently from her hands and recognized Major Matt Mason. The little Major didn't know how many memories he held. The first day Jack had ever laid eyes on her. A father's love and dreams for his brilliant little girl. Jack's eyes drifted to Charlie's picture, and at that moment, the wall that took him ten years to build crumbled, and he quickly put the doll back in her hands.

Jack sat down and watched her, gripping the arms of the chair until his fingers were numb. He loved her so much. He admitted it. Don't let anything happen to her. Please. That's all he wanted- was for Sam to be safe. It had been the driving force in his life for so many years, whether he'd realized it or not, and he'd always held himself responsible. Gradually, he relaxed his hands and shook his head. _She's just going to geek central out in the middle of nowhere._ And he was glad, but he still stayed in the chair, watching her breathe, until he fell asleep.

Jack woke up to the phone ringing, and then he could hear Sam talking in the kitchen. She came out and handed it to him. It was Siler. "Sir", Siler explained, "We, ah, have a little problem with the computer system. The glyphs aren't making it to the gate, I don't think it's serious but until it's straightened out we can't dial the gate. We've got two teams-off world."

"Well, maybe mice chewed through the cables." Jack took a cup of coffee from Sam and smiled.

"No, sir."

"You _checked for mice?_"

"Yes, sir." Siler said.

"Oh for crying out loud Siler, I'll be right there." Jack hung up. He drank some coffee and looked at the box on the floor, which was now packed, its lid folded neatly. Sam stood at the door, putting her jacket on.

"Where are you going?" Jack stood slowly. Chairs were definitely not meant to be beds, especially when one was over fifty.

"To the SGC." Sam fished in her pocket for her keys. She'd obviously been up a while. Jack made a mental note to try not to miss her next shower.

"Why?" Jack took another drink of coffee and put it on the table. "You don't work there anymore."

"Siler asked me to come."

Jack saw the uncertainty in her eyes. "Siler would be the _last_ one to be chatting up the fact you're at my house at eight a.m." Jack put his arms around her waist and kissed her. He put his face in her hair, inhaling the scent. "Jack, I've got to go." Sam peeled his arms from around her.

"Married two days and you're cutting me off already." Jack teased. "Can you at least wait for me?"

"No, sir." Sam kissed his cheek. "No favoritism." She walked out the door.

Sam looked at her hand on the steering wheel. She never wore any jewelry but her dog tags on base. She'd never worn earrings, or Pete's ring. In all honesty, she didn't want Jack to see that ring, so the policies were fine with her. She just didn't know about wedding bands, so few people she knew managed to stay married. She tried to remember about General Hammond.

Arriving at the base, she slipped off the ring and placed it securely in the buttoned breast pocket of her BDU jacket. She finished getting dressed and went out to find Siler, who was checking connections from the computer to the stargate.

He turned and stood at attention. "Colonel Carter." Siler never did that. "At ease, Siler." She wished she could tell it to herself. They started reviewing the data he had collected so far, and soon they both fell back into their usual easy technical talk. Jack came into the gate room, saw them intently discussing the situation, and turned on his heel. He wanted no part of that. He went up stairs to the control room get the list of team members who were off-world, in case they were due back today. Jack hated calling families to inform them of late arrivals.

"Here you are, sir." Sgt. Harriman handed him the list. "No one due back today. Alpha, beta and gamma sites were all fine as of early this morning." Jack took the list from Walter and studied it. Walter studied Jack's left hand.

"All right, Walter, I'll be in my office."

"Yes, sir." Walter grinned into his headset.

Jack went up the last flight of stairs to the briefing room and then his office. More requisitions to sign. He sighed, hung up his jacket and sat at his desk. There was a manila envelope marked "Eyes Only." Very interesting. Jack undid the brass clasp and shook the envelope, and out fell a large greeting card. He started to smile. "Congratulations on your wedding." Opening it, he found "It's about time," marked across both panels in big red letters. With the card was continuous feed computer paper, with scores of signatures on it. It unfolded itself from the desk down to the floor.

O'Neill phoned down to the control room. "Sgt. Harriman, tell Colonel Carter to report to my office." Walter smiled, and complied.

Sam looked up. "Okay." She checked one more thing with Siler and then went up to O'Neill's office. "You wanted to see me, sir."

O'Neill sat back in his chair. "That was weird."

"Weird, but necessary." Sam said, seriously.

"I suppose." He sighed. "I've got something to show you, Carter." He patted the desk.

"Sir?" Carter blushed.

"Sam, I can control myself, really," Jack grinned. Sam walked over to the desk. She saw the card and read each signature and greeting, smiling and chuckling her way down the list. He watched her, soaking in that smile to save for the long days he knew were coming.

Then Jack stood up. "Give me your ring." Sam sighed guiltily and took it out of her pocket. Jack slipped it back on her finger. "Don't make me do that again." He looked in her eyes, dead serious, and it scared her.

"All right Jack, I won't."

* * *

"It's funny," Sam said as she and Jack sat on the couch, in complete denial about her move to Nevada the next day, "I feel like we had our honeymoon before the wedding." She put her head on his shoulder and sighed. "I'd like to go back to your cabin." 

"Whose cabin?" Jack raised his eyebrows and looked down at her.

Sam smiled. "I'll never love it as much as you do."

"I went there every summer since I was able to walk." Jack reminisced. "It was my uncle's. He taught me how to fish."

"Wasn't he worried you'd fall in and drown?"

"Nope. He was more careful than I was." Jack stared at the flames crackling in the fireplace.

"Jack." Sam gently reprimanded him.

"I still miss him, Sam." Jack's face was impassive.

"I know. I imagine you always will, just like I miss my mom - and now my dad." She sighed. "But Dad once told me that love didn't always have to end in pain."

"That sounds pretty wise. Are you sure it wasn't Selmak?" Jack smiled down at her.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Does that bother you?" Jack said, nodding toward the picture of Sara and Charlie.

"No, Jack. I actually think its- nice." _It shows that when you love, you love deeply._

Jack regarded her thoughtfully. "If I ask you something, will you promise not to flip out on me?"

Sam turned her head to look at him. "I don't know. Look how I acted when you asked me to marry you."

"This isn't a big deal. Just, uh, more nosy."

"Nosy is fine." She was really curious now.

"We haven't been using any birth control, have we?" Jack tilted his head and looked at her.

Kids. She smiled- he was definitely not one to waste time. Even if there hadn't been Charlie, it would have been impossible not to see that he loved kids. It was one of those paradoxical parts of Jack's nature that made him intrigue her like no man ever had. "Well, actually, we have. Janet wrote the policy requiring it for all women going off-world."

"Oh, Sam…" The careless way she said it made Jack's heart ache. Of all the risks she'd had to take, rape was just another one on the list for her. Then he remembered Jolinar, and what Sam knew and maybe even experienced, and he felt worse.

"I was always all right, Jack." Sam said quietly. "Remember when I kicked Turghan's ass?"

"Oh yeah. _So_ richly deserved." His mood lifted slightly thinking about that expedition, when he first began to appreciate _all _the fine qualities of his 2IC. He watched the flames for a moment, then turned to Sam with a sly grin. "I have to admit I was hopeful you'd just forgotten. I could get used to the idea of a little O'Neill conceived in the heat of the moment."

Sam smiled. "Sorry. Maybe someday." _Maybe next week if you keep smiling at me like that._

"Soon?"

"Jack. I'm just adjusting to a few major life events, and now you're pestering me about another one. Not to mention we won't even be living in the same state." Sam tried to be upbeat, but could feel the little protective bubble around them bursting.

"All right." He could hear the stress in her voice, but he knew how to fix that. "How about we go practice, then?"

Sam sat up. "Jack?"

"Yes?"

"You really _are _a very bad boy."

He smiled, and stood up, offering her his hand. "Only for you."


End file.
